I should like to tell you how Elizabeth most graciously opened the ball with his Majesty, the King of the Peak, amid the plaudits of worshipping subjects, and I should enjoy describing the riotous glory which followed,—for although I was not there, I know intimately all that happened,—but I will balk my desire and tell you only of those things which touched Dorothy.
Leicester, of course, danced with her, and during a pause in the figure, the girl in response to pleadings which she had adroitly incited, reluctantly promised to grant the earl the private interview he so much desired if he could suggest some means for bringing it about. Leicester was in raptures over her complaisance and glowed with triumph and delightful anticipation. But he could think of no satisfactory plan whereby his hopes might be brought to a happy fruition. He proposed several, but all seemed impracticable to the coy girl, and she rejected them. After many futile attempts he said:—
"I can suggest no good plan, mistress. I pray you, gracious lady, therefore, make full to overflowing the measure of your generosity, and tell me how it may be accomplished."
Dorothy hung her head as if in great shame and said: "I fear, my lord, we had better abandon the project for a time. Upon another occasion perhaps—"
"No, no," interrupted the earl, pleadingly, "do not so grievously disappoint me. My heart yearns to have you to myself for one little moment where spying eyes cannot see nor prying ears hear. It is cruel in you to raise my hopes only to cast them down. I beg you, tell me if you know in what manner I may meet you privately."
After a long pause, Dorothy with downcast eyes said, "I am full of shame, my lord, to consent to this meeting, and then find the way to it, but—but—" ("Yes, yes, my Venus, my gracious one," interrupted the earl)—"but if my father would permit me to—to leave the Hall for a few minutes, I might—oh, it is impossible, my lord. I must not think of it."
"I pray you, I beg you," pleaded Leicester. "Tell me, at least, what you might do if your father would permit you to leave the Hall. I would gladly fall to my knees, were it not for the assembled company."
With reluctance in her manner and gladness in her heart, the girl said:—
"If my father would permit me to leave the Hall, I might—only for a moment, meet you at the stile, in the northeast corner of the garden back of the terrace half an hour hence. But he would not permit me, and—and, my lord, I ought not to go even should father consent."
"I will ask your father's permission for you. I will seek him at once," said the eager earl.